


Now and Forever

by IspeltEclipsewrong



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Adoption, Backstory, FOR ALL THAT IS HOLY SPLIT THE TAGS, Family Fluff, G-man is trying his best, Gen, HLVRAI, Half-Life VR But the AI is Self-Aware, Headcanon, MORE G-MAN CENTRIC FICS, MORE TOMMY CENTRIC FICS, and then immediately adopting them back, blink and you'll miss it allusions to child death, giving up a baby for adoption, learning to deal with human emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IspeltEclipsewrong/pseuds/IspeltEclipsewrong
Summary: Sometimes his employers would put him away between tasks and let him sleep dreamlessly.He had never awoken in the void before.Now here he was, awake in the void, with a child in his arms? What was he supposed to make of this?
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta & The G-Man
Comments: 25
Kudos: 152





	Now and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by this lovely comic: https://mysteriie.tumblr.com/post/625533964725207040/i-think-about-tommy-mr-coolatta-lore-every
> 
> This is my headcanon for reconciling Tommy claiming to be an orphan/picking his own last name with G-Man calling him his 'progeny' (implying blood relation) and clearly loving him. G-Man's a good dad but, as an eldritch being, it took him a bit to get there.

G-man was surprised.

G-man wasn’t often surprised.

Not to imply he was omniscient, of course. Surprise wasn’t new- just rare. Omniscience was the sort of thing reserved for his employers: those entities who could look down on the world like a chessboard but couldn’t interact with it directly. He knew a great deal more than most people. He knew enough that he wasn’t really a person anymore. He was content with that. He could live with it. There wasn’t a reason to get greedy, after all, he didn’t mind not knowing everything.

In the end, he didn’t need to know everything to do his job. He just had to advance the plan his employers guarded so reverently.

Somehow he doubted the squirming baby in his arms was part of that plan.

He knew where the baby came from in an abstract way. This was his child. He didn’t have a doubt in his mind about that. The newborn didn’t resemble him, as most newborns looked like squishy potatoes, but the curl of hair against the baby’s forehead was the same black as his own.

The baby grumbled in its- his, actually, it came to him that this was his son- sleep as he started to wake. G-man held perfectly still, not sure what he should do, as the baby opened his eyes. He blinked at the blurry world and tried to focus his gaze. There wasn’t much to look at in the void despite the infant’s solid effort. His eyes were the pigmentless blue of all newborns but G-man knew the color wouldn’t darken much. There was an odd light behind those irises, making them glow, that was _very_ familiar. 

His son had his eyes. The thought made the corner of G-man’s mouth turn up. 

There was, of course, the problem of how he came to have a son. There hadn’t been any _indiscretions_ on his part. He didn’t even think he was capable of something like that. If he was, he’d had no such desires for as long as he could remember. No man or woman had caught his eye since he started working for any reason (other than possible employment). 

He was missing a little bit of time, sure, but not so much that nine months had passed. Sometimes his employers would put him away between tasks and let him sleep dreamlessly. He had never awoken in the void before. Now here he was, awake in the void, with a _child_ in his arms? What was he supposed to make of this?

He wasn’t being called upon at the moment. Where there usually was purpose imposed in his brain, there was nothing. His employers had no new task laid before him. He was alone. It was just him, the baby, and free time he wasn’t usually afforded. 

Was this a reward of some kind? It seemed unlikely. The idea of his employers giving him a baby to raise when there was so much work to do… They were good bosses, but he was just a pawn. A rook or knight at best. He hadn’t even wanted progeny. Had he? Maybe he did and didn’t know it yet. His employers were skilled at seeing underneath the skin of the pieces on their chessboard. He couldn’t put it past them. 

He idly waved his finger in front of the baby’s face until he reached up with pudgy, clumsy hands and attempted to grab it. He thought for a while longer. He hadn’t turned his nose up at the child. The thought of being a father didn’t upset him. Although he didn’t get upset at most things, so it was a bit of a wash. 

Maybe there was no outside force necessary at all, G-man mused. He’d split in two, like a cell dividing, and the result was a baby instead of a perfect clone. It would make sense that, if he was no longer a man and was now Something Else, his new species would have different ways of propagation, wouldn’t it?

No matter the mechanism, he had a baby. He had to do something about this baby.

He could just get rid of it. His hands were already bloody with a thousand years worth of dirty work. Men, women, children, aliens. He’d never had any qualms before, but- the idea immediately made him grit his teeth. No. Not this child. His stomach churned like an angry sea at the mere millisecond of entertaining the thought. He couldn't. 

His son shivered and G-man readjusted his grip to accommodate the blanket that materialised around him. The baby fussed, whined, and G-man was certain he was about to cry. He gave a few hesitant bounces and hushed him until he settled again. His son closed his eyes and huffed. He was already going back to sleep like a moment of being cold was the most tiring thing in the world. G-man fought another mouth twitch.

He wasn’t going to hurt his son but he couldn’t look after him either. His work was difficult, time consuming, and heartless. He knew the greater picture would make it all worth it. His son didn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t. The void was no place for a child. He didn’t have the time or the space or, most worryingly, the permission of his superiors- if indeed this wasn’t their work.

That was a somber thought. G-man reached out again to brush the tip of his finger over the sleeping baby’s cheek. He looked human enough. He fussed, wriggled, and presumably would cry when he got hungry. G-man had been human once. Maybe he could take his son back to earth to be raised by other people.

There was still time before the Resonance Cascade- almost thirty seven years. It was hardly a full life, but it was more time than being Unmade by his employers upon discovery. It was something.

Who knew what the future held? Maybe his son would inherit his powers before then and be hired. It might be nice to work alongside him one day if the Powers That Be allowed it. Not that he’d be allowed to know that G-man was his father if such a thing occurred. 

Or maybe he’d just grow to thirty seven and die. He could go out with his loved ones beside him, or alone, or in his sleep, or in fear, or become a headcrab zombie, or… G-man bounced the infant again and tucked him more firmly into his arms. He pushed the thought from his mind with deft swiftness. 

Or maybe he’d live long enough to meet Gordon Freeman and be saved. Either thought wasn’t ideal, but G-man doubted he’d remember this little incident by then. It wouldn’t be his problem. He assured himself. This would be fine. It was fine.

G-man made up his mind. He’d give up the baby on earth and let him be someone else’s problem. There was a slight pressure around the two of them as time and space bent to his will. G-man walked through the arch and onto a busy street in some American midwest city. The sky above was overcast and the sidewalks were already damp. There was a quiet murmur of people from the few that walked up and down the street. 

It might have been a little odd to see a man in a pressed suit carrying a baby with no wife or even a stroller in sight. Thankfully, all it took was a little influence for the two of them to be ignored completely. G-man tucked his son in the crook of one arm, letting his other hand rest at his side. He flexed his fingers and the comforting weight of his suitcase filled his grasp. He walked up the stone steps of a quaint brick building. A good orphanage (as much as an orphanage could be good in the 60’s) with a playground on the property enclosed by a fence. The iron wrought sign over the door declared some saint’s name, but G-man didn’t bother to read it.

G-man had no need to abandon the child on the stoop. All the paperwork he’d need would materialise in his suitcase and no one here would remember his face once he left. The door swung open for him, silent as the grave, and he approached the reception desk. The woman behind the desk almost jumped out of her skin. Clearly, the door usually made noise. 

“Hello, sir,” she said, voice coming out a bit too high until she cleared her throat, “Can I help you?”

“Yes- I will need to… speak to, whoever’s in, charge here,” he said. He found that speaking aloud after months or years in the void was always awkward. If he were to use a poetic simile, he’d say it felt like shaking off the cobwebs on his vocal cords. He coughed into his elbow. 

The woman nodded. She glanced between G-man and the baby in his arms. She said nothing. Was she being professional or was she simply used to this? She turned back to her typewriter and hovered her manicured fingers above it.

“May I have your name, sir?”

“G████ ** ████**.”

She typed the name onto the form and it immediately smeared into something unreadable. She didn’t seem to notice. If she tried to recall the name, she’d find herself drawing a blank. His name could be told, but remembering it was on a strictly need-to-know basis. 

“Have a seat, sir. I’ll call you up when the matron is available to speak to you.” 

G-man did as he was asked. He lowered himself somewhat awkwardly into an uncomfortable waiting room chair. After a moment he crossed his legs and readjusted the child against his chest. He straightened his tie and went still. Too still. He had a habit of appearing, well, eerie. If someone walked in, they might startle even if he didn’t move. He had that kind of presence. The baby wriggled in his arms, reaching out with grabby hands. G-man gave him his index finger to squeeze without thinking. 

The woman called his name with only the sound of static cutting through the silence. The unworldly vocalization was ignored by both herself and the nun who’d arrived. He stood up stiffly and gave the nun a polite nod. He would have smiled, but he was out of practice. He didn’t want to frighten her. She led the way into a cosy back office.

“Have a seat, Mr. ** ████**.”

“Thank you, Sister,” G-man said. He sat in front of an oak desk with more confidence than before. The chairs in here were much more comfortable. He glanced around the room at the dozens of pictures of happy children and clergy. He already knew this was a good place. He wouldn’t have bothered otherwise. The nun sat behind the desk, but her polite smile betrayed no power play or malice. She opened the top drawer of the desk to retrieve a form. 

“I assume you’re here to leave this little angel in our care?” 

“Yes, Sister.”

“I have some questions for you, but don’t feel pressured to answer them. I know how difficult of a decision this can be.” 

G-man nodded. She asked for a date of birth and his eyes sought the calendar on her wall. It was hard to remember where he was in the timestream some times. He chose a date that felt right from a few weeks earlier. He had no relevant medical history besides blood type. He had a cough, but that wasn’t so much to do with illness than it did with…

Well. Other, work-related things. Let’s leave it at that.

“May I ask about the mother of this child?” That was a difficult question and one he'd have to lie for. He couldn’t exactly say there was no mother after all.

“My wife. She, well, ssshe didn’t make it and, I... don’t feel I can raissse him alone.” 

She nodded. She was the correct amount of sympathetic- not too pitying, or too cold, or any amount of judgmental. She wrote down his answers in her form with tiny, neat script. 

“And the child’s name?” 

Names. He hadn’t named his son yet, had he? He looked down at the baby in his arms. His eyes were screwed shut and he tugged G-man’s finger. The child was starting to get fussy with all these new voices not letting him sleep. G-man watched him quietly for a moment.

“Thomas. His name is Thomas.”

“Everything seems to be in order, Mr. ████. If you could please sign here?”

He signed the paper and it smudged under his fingers. He handed off his child with nary a backwards glance. When he left this building, everyone here would forget his face. The baby was their problem now.

He didn’t have to concern himself anymore. 

* * *

He didn’t _have to_ concern himself, but he _did_. He didn’t know why. He knew that there was no reason for him to hang around. He couldn’t stop himself from checking in despite all the logical reasons there were not to. He kept coming back like a hunk of space junk stuck in the orphanage's orbit. He barely had to think about his son before he found himself standing on the other side of a chain link fence. 

Thomas crouched on the pavement in a position that made G-man’s knees ache just watching. The sun bore down on him and caught in his hair. His tiny fist was wrapped around a piece of sidewalk chalk. There were smears of blue and yellow over his white shirt, a smudge of color across his nose where he’d touched his face, and the tips of his ears were starting to get red. His masterpiece, from what G-man could see, was a large yellow dog breathing fire. 

His son was four years old now. He was quite creative, too. G-man wasn’t much of an artist himself. It was a strange and pleasant feeling to see one's progeny succeed where you have failed. 

Time seemed to pass quickly here; much too quickly, for his liking. That wasn’t a problem he was used to having. Time would stop, slow, rewind on his orders, but it wasn’t enough. It seemed like just yesterday that he was holding his newborn son in his arms- a baby that couldn’t even lift his head. The future became the present, the present became the past, and now… All G-man had were snapshots of memories caught at a distance.

His son sitting up in his crib for the first time. 

His son smiling, cooing, and repeating sounds as a nun encouraged him with pleasant babble. 

His son saying his first word: “doggy!”. 

His son standing. 

His son taking his first step. 

It was too fast. It was much too fast and he caught so little of it. There were only polaroids where there should have been a film reel. 

He never tried to talk to Thomas (now dubbed ‘Tommy’ by the other orphans). His son wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers and he didn’t want to encourage otherwise. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye on him, surely? 

He was just making sure he was getting enough attention from his caregivers. He had to make sure no one was picking on him either. If there was always extra candy in one of Tommy’s drawers, that was just a given, wasn’t it? The same could be said for the new toys that sometimes appeared. His employers wouldn’t begrudge him these trifles as long as he remained distant. He was completely separate from his son, he told himself.

G-man was in too deep. 

He wasn’t supposed to get attached like this. It would be too dangerous to raise Tommy. It would be best for him to be adopted and be happy with some other family. G-man told himself this over and over. He knew it, but at the same time he couldn’t understand. Not really. He was a good employee so he repeated it anyway. Duty above family. The plan. His employers. 

That lasted until he overheard a man and his wife talking about adopting Tommy. Well, not Tommy, but a son. They wanted to adopt a son and they were looking at his son, drawing on the pavement. They were thinking of the possibility of taking him home. They were a bright-eyed young couple. He could tell just by looking at them that any child they adopted would be showered with love. He could imagine it now; Tommy’s pictures on their fridge in a tiny suburban home somewhere.

It filled him with an immediacy and pain he wasn’t expecting. He couldn’t keep watching his son if he went to live with another couple. It would close a door he’d been tentatively keeping open. They’d adopt Tommy and he’d never see them again. He didn’t want to miss out on even more of his life. He couldn't. He wouldn't. 

So, here G-man sat in the lobby of the orphanage he’d left Tommy in four years ago, waiting for his name to be called by a woman that didn’t recognise him. His alien heart twisted with the memory of an emotion he couldn’t name. The other prospective parents gave him a wide berth.

As long as his work was done, why would his employers complain? He could build a house fit for a child in the void. He could awaken his son’s abilities and teach him to use them himself. He could keep one small boy safe. He could make one small boy happy. 

This was terribly selfish, but his employers… Well, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

It took even less effort to deal with the matron this time. Maybe he was leaning a bit too hard on his abilities, but he didn’t think he could use his words to their full effectiveness this time. It was easier to push the thought of him being a hardworking husband into the woman’s mind. A man who wanted to adopt a son with his wife. It was barely an afterthought to erase how strange it was for only one parent to be present for this from her brain. 

The nun smiled brightly at him as she led him out to meet with the children. She introduced several of them to him which he showed only token interest in. Couldn't she see that they were all the wrong match? He didn’t want to come off as rude, but his patience was running thin. 

Tommy was putting his chalk away when they reached him. His face was still smeared with color- some of it intentional this time. Very creative. G-man wasn't listening to what the matron was saying when his son smiled up at him. The boy offered his hand to shake with a little prompting ("Be polite, Tommy," she'd encouraged with a smile) and G-man took it.

“It’s nice to, to finally meet you, Thomas,” he greeted, a small smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“It… It’s nice to meet you too, mister!” Tommy said, a wide grin splitting his face.

What happened next was a blur, and probably wasn’t supposed to happen so fast- wouldn’t have, if not for G-man’s prodding. The papers were signed with a name that was unreadable the second it was put on paper. The custody of one Thomas ████ being transferred to Mr. G████ ████. They were father and son once more. 

What now?

* * *

The two of them stood hand in hand in line at a coffee shop. Thomas had perked up at the scent of fresh baked goods and, well, there was cause for celebration, wasn’t there? G-man couldn’t believe both how small and big Tommy’s hand felt in his own. It had been smaller when he was an infant, and he’d grown so much, but G-man would still tower over him for years. A timeline that felt too long and too short at once. 

He was done having second thoughts about being a father, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

When they got to the front of the line, Tommy all but pressed his face against the glass. The boy glanced between the sweets and his new father as if checking if he was still allowed. G-man offered another practiced smile while he ordered a black coffee for himself and a chocolate milk for Tommy. Tommy eventually pointed at a doughnut at random when he couldn’t decide, eyes briefly screwing shut.

The teenage girl behind the counter smiled at his cuteness and G-man felt a well of pride and affection. He had the best, cutest son. 

They took their order to one of the tables by the window, so that Tommy could people watch. The brief layaway on the way home was fortunate- G-man still had to build their house in his void. He didn’t have to be there to do it but it might take a while. 

“S-so, uh, Mister… Mister dad,” Tommy started. G-man bit back a smile, hiding it behind a sip of coffee, “now that I’m adopted…”

“Yes, Thomas?” 

“What’s, um, my new last name?”

Oh. Oh no.

G-man took another sip of his coffee in a bid to buy more time. It was a concept that was foreign to him, but an action that seemed necessary. Desperately so.

They already had the same last name. ████.

Tommy must have not seen the adoption form at the orphanage.

Tommy was young, but he wasn’t stupid. There was no mistaking the light behind his eyes that he got from his father. He couldn't be blocked from being able to read, say, and remember his own last name like a regular human. Could he be naive enough to believe it was a coincidence? It wasn't exactly a common name. 

What if Tommy figured out that G-man had once given him up? Would he be angry, hurt, sad? All of them, probably. He’d hate G-man. There was no doubt about it.

“I, uh, well…”

His son’s face was falling, he had to think of something- Tommy had never been adopted before, so he could make something up, couldn’t he?

“I… Don’t get to choose. You do. You pick a family name and… that will be us. Together.”

Tommy looked up at him, starry-eyed. “Whoa, really?!”

“Yes.” This was a terrible idea. If G-man didn’t know better, he could swear he was tasting the leather of his shoes. Tommy started to bounce excitedly in his seat. He glanced around the room rapidly.

“Um… Um, uh-” 

“You don’t have to, to pick right now, Thomasss…”

“But I want to! Y-You’re my dad, and we’re going to be a family, a-and we should have the same last name.”

G-man’s heart ached in his chest. How could he say no? He never should have let them take Tommy. He wanted to go back in time and throttle himself.

Tommy glanced around the room, murmuring the names of the objects and colors he saw. He shook his head after every word he didn’t like the sound of. A few of them could be considered normal (Brown, Green) and a few of them G-man might have to veto (Straw, Hat, Coat). 

“Cuh… Coffee... Cuh-Cookie, um,” Tommy said, straining his eyes as he tried to read the menu board. Only his son would be able to read at this age, G-man thought with pride.

“C-Coolatta!”

G-man felt his stomach sink. That couldn’t be it, could it? It wasn’t even a real word. “Are you sure, Thomas?”

Tommy turned back to him, flopping back into his seat. He was grinning like the sun itself was trapped behind his teeth. He nodded vigorously. “Y-Yeah! It has ‘Cool’ in it, and… No one else will have it! We’ll be the only two Coolattas in the world and we-we’ll always be able to find each other in the, in the phone book.”

G-man smiled indulgently and inclined his head. This was his punishment from trying to run from the inevitable. A foreseen consequence. He’d bear it with dignity. Besides, if Tommy smiled at him like that- like he hung the moon and stars- he wouldn’t even mind being called Mr. Coat. He could live with Coolatta. 

“It’sss settled, then. We’re the Coolattas.” 

Tommy cheered. The two of them finished their drinks in what felt like a blur. Tommy shrugged his coat back on and ran after his father to the door of the shop. He offered his hand with a smile, but G-man elected to pick him up entirely. It had been too long since he'd carried his son. Tommy laughed and hugged him around his neck.

The two of them went home. Thomas and Garry Coolatta, now and forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you notice any misplaced tenses! Those little bastards are slippery. Or ignore them and chalk them up to G-man's time abilities.
> 
> G-man panicked and now he has to live with Coolatta forever. Serves you right, you dummy lol


End file.
